


Our Christmas

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, fluff fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t think I’m going to make it for dinner tonight,” Connor lied into the phone. </p>
<p>“Are you serious?” Oliver asked with exasperation. He’d learned after all this time not to get his hopes up - their plans always, inevitably changed - but he’d thought it was safe to get excited about tonight. "You really can’t make our Christmas?” </p>
<p>At the disappointment in Oliver’s voice when he whispered our Christmas, Connor almost caved and came clean. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Ollie,” Connor said and tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the lie. It was for the greater good, he reassured himself. “I’ll make it up to you.” </p>
<p>+ </p>
<p>Some Coliver Christmas Fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/135854299628/because-its-christmas-eve-i-dont-think-im)

“I don’t think I’m going to make it for dinner tonight,” Connor lied into the phone.

“Are you serious?” Oliver asked with exasperation. He’d learned after all this time not to get his hopes up - their plans always, inevitably changed - but he’d thought it was safe to get excited about tonight. It was Christmas Eve after all.

“Yeah,” Connor sighed out. He hoped he was selling this well; his whole plan revolved around selling this well. “Annalise came back from breakfast with the client and her trunk was full of flies. Guy kept every receipt he ever got and guess who gets to help dig through them all.”

“Hang on a sec,” Oliver whispered. From the ensuing noise, Connor assumed Oliver had tossed his phone in a desk drawer, hiding it away from his boss’ roving eye.

Walking over to their Christmas tree, Connor bent down to plug it in. Standing, he smiled and flicked one of the silver balls so it spun and the colored light bounced off.

Decorated with ornaments Connor’s mom sent back with them from their Thanksgiving in Michigan and others Oliver’s dad had dropped off when he’d stopped by to see ‘What my son living with his boyfriend looks like,’ the tree was a perfect mix of the two of them. Handmade ornaments from Connor’s childhood hung side-by-side with those from Oliver’s and they’d filled out the other branches with ornaments and tinsel and candy canes they’d bought together. It was a mix of traditional and contemporary, old and new. It was perfect. It was them.

“Back,” Oliver said into the phone. “Sorry ‘bout that. Luis came through.”

“It’s fine.”

“So, you really can’t make our Christmas?”

At the disappointment in Oliver’s voice when he whispered our Christmas, Connor almost caved and came clean.

With all the Christmas Day commitments with Oliver’s family, they’d decided to keep Christmas Eve theirs and theirs alone. Oliver was getting off work early and Connor was supposed to only have to stop by Annalise’s briefly later in the morning. Then, free from commitments for a whole twenty-four hours, they were going to spend the afternoon in the kitchen making a dinner they could linger over. Connor was going to try and make his grandma’s dumplings and Oliver was going to show Connor how to make bibingka.

After dinner there was talk of watching Christmas movies curled up on the couch. They were still debating whether to start the marathon with Die Hard (Oliver’s choice) or A Christmas Story (Connor’s) but neither of them really cared. The curling up together was the important thing. Holding each other close as the hours till Christmas ticked away.

The celebration may have sounded too simple for some but neither of them could wait. It was going to be simple and low-key and theirs.

“I’m sorry, Ollie,” Connor said and tried to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at the lie. It was for the greater good, he reassured himself.

“But it’s Christmas Eve?” Oliver whined the tiniest bit in protest. “Even my office is closing earlier and we never close early.”

Connor snorted. “I know but I don’t think this a holiday Annalise Keating recognizes.”

At that Oliver wanted to say something rude - something along the lines of comparing Annalise to Scrooge - but held his tongue. There wasn’t any point in wasting his breath. There wasn’t any point in turning this whole thing into a bigger fight. It would just make the rest of the holiday even worse and be for naught. If Annalise said Connor and the rest needed to work tonight, then Connor and them would work. Nothing Oliver, or anyone, could say to change that.

“Do you think you’ll be able to leave at a decent hour at least?” Oliver wanted to know. When Connor just answered with a resigned sigh, Oliver knew the answer. Merry freaking Christmas.

“I’m so sorry, Oliver,” Connor said again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Yeah yeah.” Oliver let his shoulders slump at his desk. He’d heard that one before and hated the bitter thought.

“I promise.” In their living room, Connor spun the silver ornament once more. “I’ll make it right.”

* * *

 

A few hours later, Oliver took the stairs slowly up to their apartment, dragging his feet and resting heavily on the handrail.

He’d worked later that day than he’d planned but, after Connor’s phone call, hadn’t seen the point of rushing off early. Why not just finish out the day? He was only heading home to an empty apartment. Empty and cold and dark on Christmas Eve.

Oliver tried not to let Connor’s ridiculous schedule get to him. He really did. He tried to let all the canceled plans and last minute apology calls go. He tried not to let it bug him how it’d been weeks since they last gone out just the two of them or that he couldn’t remember the last time they had a conversation that didn’t circle back to Annalise Keating.

It wasn’t Connor’s fault they never seemed to see each other anymore. It wasn’t Connor’s fault that they communicated more via text than anything else. Some weeks it felt like the only time Oliver got to actually see Connor was when Connor would eventually tumble into their bed in the wee hours of the night. The body slipping under the covers to join him in bed would stir Oliver awake just enough. He’d crack open an eye to see Connor tucking a pillow under his head and pulling another one in close.

“Night, Ollie,” Connor would whisper from too far away. Oliver would scoot over, tugging the spare pillow out of Connor’s arms so he could tuck himself into Connor’s warm embrace.

“Night, Con,” Oliver would whisper back with his forehead resting against Connor’s chest and they’d hold each other close as sleep took them under.

Most of the time Oliver really didn’t let Connor’s schedule get to him but tonight, as he rounded the last turn on the stairs, Oliver admitted to himself that he was frustrated.

He’d had such hopes for tonight. He’d wanted tonight to be about more than just their Christmas celebration. Oliver had planned on it being more than cooking together and exchanging gifts and gorging themselves on sweets. He’d wanted it to be a time for them to reconnect a little. Talk to each other face-to-face for once. Share a lingering meal and let the romance of soft light and good food work its magic. Curl up next to each other on the couch after dinner was done and just simply hold each other. No ulterior motives or plans for more. Just Connor’s heart beating strong and steady under Oliver’s  cheek. Just being together. Just being themselves.

Oliver stopped in front of his door and tilted his head to the side, stretching his neck as he dug in his bag for his keys. He absently wondered if his gym was still open. It was Christmas Eve and everything but it wasn’t too late yet. Dusk was just starting to settle over the city and he really didn’t want to start cooking alone. Maybe he’d have time to get a few laps in on the track or a few rounds with the heavy bag. Just something that wasn’t sitting alone in their apartment on Christmas Eve. Something active and productive to burn all this frustrated energy away.

Oliver slipped his key in the door with a half-formed idea of checking the gym hours on his phone as he swung the door open. It was then that he noticed the light.

A soft light illuminated the floor and Oliver closed his eyes with the briefest of curses. He’d been the last one to leave this morning and must have left a light on. It wasn’t a typical habit of his but…then he looked up to see them.

The apartment was covered in white Christmas lights. Strands were wrapped around lamps and hung off the ceiling fan. More outlined the bookshelves and curled around the edge of the countertop. They were wrapped around the TV and tucked up into the corners of the ceiling. There must have been dozens, hundreds, thousands of little white lights hung all around and bathed the apartment in soft, white light.

The sole exception, of course, was their Christmas tree with its multicolored, twinkling lights. The bright, colored centerpiece in the frosted wonderland.

Oliver’s face lit up with a grin as he shouldered off his bag and hung up his coat. Connor had done this. Connor had done all of this. That filthy, adorable liar. His stunned grin grew even wider when Connor stepped out from the bedroom.

“What is all this?” Oliver asked with awe, his arms spread out to encompass the room.

“It’s Christmas,” Connor answered as they met in the middle of the living room. Connor paused to take in the room, the lights, Oliver - joy and surprise lighting up his face. Connor took Oliver’s hands in his and lifted one to kiss the palm then the delicate skin of Oliver’s wrist where his pulse beat strong. “Merry Christmas, Oliver,” he said.

Oliver cupped Connor’s cheek and pulled Connor in close. “Merry Christmas, Connor,” Oliver whispered back against Connor’s lips.

For a beat and then two, Connor let the kiss take them. Oliver brushed fingertips through the hair at the nape of Connor’s neck and slipped his tongue between Connor’s lips. Connor tugged Oliver’s hips close and ran his hand down to rest of the curve of Oliver’s ass. It was slow and languid and Connor was dizzy with it when he broke for air.

“Okay. Present time,” Connor said huskily.

“Damn right. Present time,” Oliver agreed as he mouthed down Connor’s neck.

Connor chuckled a bit as he stepped back. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Let’s make it what you meant.” Oliver took Connor’s belt buckle in both hands to undo it and tried to tug Connor back in close.

“Come on now.” Connor put his hands over Oliver’s, staying him. He captured Oliver’s lips for one more brief kiss and then another before breaking away again. “I mean it. Go look for your present.”

With one final, fierce press of Connor’s lips against his, Oliver let Connor nudge him over to the tree. He took the few short steps over but he frowned. There was nothing under the tree. There weren’t any presents under there. Oliver’s own present to Connor was still tucked up away in their closet - Oliver had intended to sneak it under the tree before Connor got back from Annalise’s - but there is nothing else.

With palms raised in silent question, Oliver turned back to Connor who just shook his head. “Look harder,” he insisted.

Oliver bent down to get a better look under the tree - still nothing. He looked behind the nearby chairs and on the shelves that were close - nothing there either. He was about to turn back to Connor again when then the glint of a silver bow caught Oliver’s eye.

There, tucked in the tree, was a small box. A tiny box, really. A tiny, velvet box nestled next to their new home ornament Connor had bought while they were out getting decorations.

“I think that’s supposed to be for when you buy a house or something,” Oliver had said at the time, touched that Connor had thought to add it to their cart. “I don’t think moving in counts.”

Connor had just shrugged and left the ornament in with their other purchases. “We’ll just have to get another one later when we buy our house.”

With gentle but slightly shaking hands, Oliver pulled the tiny box from the tree. He tried to quell his beating heart and keep his hopes from soaring up and away. Just because it was tiny box didn’t mean that it was the tiny box. Tiny boxes could hold anything. Tiny boxes didn’t always have circlets of silver or gold nestled inside. Tiny boxes didn’t always hold impossibly big dreams and even bigger questions.

Holding his heart carefully in his hand, Oliver started to turn. He didn’t want to open it yet. He didn’t want to be disappointed. He didn’t want to open it without Connor.

“Connor,” Oliver began then choked out the rest when he saw Connor down on bended knee. “What are you doing?”

“Oliver,” Connor started.

“What is this?” Oliver demanded. This couldn’t be what he thought. The box and the lights and Connor - this couldn’t be what Oliver thought it was, could it?

“What do you think this is?” Connor asked with a smile. He reached for Oliver’s hand. “Oliver, I-”

“Yes,” Oliver was quick to say.

Connor shook his head. He needed to ask first and before he asked he had to say his peace. There was a process to all this. “Ollie, you-”

“Yes.”

Connor started to level Oliver with a look but caught himself. This wasn’t the moment for looks. “Oliver, these-”

“Yes.”

“Damnit Oliver!” Connor cursed then bit his lip. He wasn’t fucking this up. He started again, “You have-”

“Yes.”

“Jesu-” Connor cut off the curse and shot Oliver that look. “Can’t you tell I’m trying to ask you something here?”

“Yes” Oliver dropped to his knees so they were eye-to-eye. He held the tiny box carefully in one hand and cupped Connor’s cheek with the other. “Yes, I can see that and my answer is yes. Yes.”

“But Ollie I-”

“Yes, Connor.” Oliver ran his lips over Connor’s cheeks and lips and nose and forehead, chanting the word as he went. “Yes yes yes yes yes.”

Connor pressed up tall off his seat so they were hip-to-hip. He tangled fingers in Oliver’s hair and pried Oliver’s lips open with his tongue to take the kiss deeper and bruising. “I had a whole thing prepared. A whole speech,” he whispered across Oliver’s cheek.

Oliver smiled against Connor’s lips. “What was it?”

Connor shook his head. He couldn’t tell Oliver now. He’d known the whole thing would be embarrassing and now, through sheer luck, he didn’t have to do it. “I don’t remember,” Connor lied before nosing down Oliver’s throat to suck a mark into the pulse point of his throat.

Oliver arched his neck back. “Come on. I wanna know.”

Connor just shook his head again and so Oliver knotted his fingers in Connor’s hair and tugged once, hard. “Hey!” Connor protested.

“Tell me what you were going to say,” Oliver pressed.

Fighting to get his breath back, Connor looked at Oliver. He couldn’t say it all now. Not with Oliver this close. Not with Oliver so close and holding Connor so fiercely, looking at Connor with such love. There was a reason people proposed on their knees and it had nothing to do with tradition. How could anyone ever say the words with the love of their life looking at them like that? The love he saw shining in Oliver’s eyes humbled Connor and muted him.

“Ollie. I-” the words broke out of him but somehow, someway, Oliver understood and he nodded.

“I know, Connor.” Oliver’s smile wobbled a little this time and he bit his lip as he nodded again. “I know”

* * *

 

Later, wrapped up in each other at the base of tree, Oliver lifted his left hand to let the glow of the white and colored lights bounce off the platinum band.

“It looks good,” Oliver said with a smile, turning into Connor.

Connor smiled. Seeing that ring on Oliver’s hand while he was wearing nothing else, knowing that Oliver would wear it in all the days to come, was doing something to Connor. Something primal and possessive. “It looks damn good,” Connor agreed, only growling a little bit.

Oliver chuckled a little and traced absent designs on Connor’s bare chest. “We need to get you one too. One that matches.”

“We will.”

Oliver looked down at the ring on his finger again. “My Christmas present for you is going to be so lame now.”

Connor burst out in a laugh. “No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Oliver insisted. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true.” Oliver frowned.

“I’m sure it’s a wonderful present,” Connor told him but Oliver just shook his head. “Well, why don’t you go get it and I’ll judge if it’s embarrassing.”

Oliver rolled his eyes and stood to go retrieve the gift. Connor tucked an arm under his head and smiled as he watched Oliver walk naked through their apartment. His fiancé - fiancé! - was fucking hot.

Coming back with the brightly wrapped gift, Oliver handed it over to Connor as he sat down. “Here,” he grumbled.

Connor took the gift with a laugh. “Come on, Ollie.”

“Just open it.”

Connor did. It was sweater, soft and green and warm. Connor tugged it on right then and there, tags and all. “I love it, Oliver.”

Oliver just shrugged. It did look good on him - practically everything looked good on Connor - but it still wasn’t a ring. “It brings out your eyes,” Oliver told him.

Connor frowned at that. “My eyes are brown.”

Oliver shook his head once. “They’ve got green in them.” He moved in close and cupped Connor’s cheek delicately. He waited for Connor’s eyes to lock on his and the smile broke slow. “See. There it is. A circle of green right around the middle.”

Connor’s breath held. Oliver looked at him enough to see a circle of green in his irises that Connor himself had never noticed. After all these months, Connor had thought he’d come accustomed to Oliver seeing him, Oliver knowing him, Oliver loving him, but then there were moments like this. Moments of new revelations and Connor felt himself falling in love with Oliver all over again.

“I love you,” Connor breathed out.

“I love you, too,” Oliver smiled back.

* * *

 

For Christmas with the Hamptons, Oliver wore his ring and Connor wore his sweater. As usual, Oliver was right; the sweater did bring out Connor’s eyes.

Then, the day after, the two of them braced themselves for the mall. Connor wanted to wait. He protested that he didn’t need a ring right now and they could wait for the insanity of Christmas returns to die down a little but Oliver insisted.

And that was how they found themselves at the jewelers on the 26th, pouring over ring displays until they found the perfect one, the perfect match for Oliver’s.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
